Oh Thank God
by 1MadHat1
Summary: "His legs soon give out from under him, and he drops unceremoniously to his knees, his hand still holding an invisible phone to his ear. The tears that Spencer had previously been holding back started pouring from his eyes. Thick, ugly tears cascading down his face because Derek is dead." (Derek Morgan/Spencer Reid)


This is the worst day of Spencer Reid's life. Which is saying something because he hunts down serial killers for a living. Every day he sees death in all its forms. Whether it was kids, adults, stabbings, shootings, torture, he'd seen it all. Yet when faced with the mere possibility of his friends-family-being in any kind of danger; he's an absolute mess.

He was currently sitting on the edge of a crappy hospital seat, his eyes closed to avoid the harsh lights of the lobby. His knee was bobbing rapidly, no steady beat, just random shaking to expel the extra energy that was still flowing through his veins after tracking down the terrorist. Along with his bouncing knee, he was also biting his nails on one of his hands, which anyone on the team could tell you, he only did during high levels of stress. The other hand gripping his cell phone so impossibly tight that his knuckles were white and he was losing feeling in his fingers.

His brain, the one that everyone raves about, was only supplying him with the worst possible outcomes. Trying desperately to convince him that his family died. That Derek died. The thought almost succeeded in causing his panicked tears, that were squeezing out of the corners of his eyes, to start trailing down his face. He managed to contain the sobs by suddenly standing up and pacing around the small room, the phone still tightly gripped in his hand.

He was so completely caught up in his thoughts that when the sharp ringing of his phone registered in his ears, a startled gasp slipped out of his lips and his eyes flew open. After he got over the initial shock, he wasted no time in flipping open the phone and bringing it his ear, not bothering to check who was calling. Before he could stop himself a small, "Derek?" was the first thing he said instead of a normal greeting. His voice rough with the effort he was making not to burst into tears.

Instead of the smooth voice of the darker skinned man, he heard the recognizable whimpering of Garcia. Without her even talking, he can feel how upset she is, he can feel her grief. Any hope that he had that she had called him with good news immediately went down the drain, and he suddenly felt like throwing up.

"What happened?" Spencer questioned when Garcia continued to sniffle instead of giving him any information. And he was dying to hear more details. At least that's what he thought before she actually started to explain to him what happened. Of course, it was about Derek.

"I was on the phone with Derek, who, of course, was doing something absolutely insane and unnecessarily heroic. He wanted me to find him an empty location and then he started saying all these amazing things about me and the-" A large sob cut her off as she relived the traumatic moment. Spencer had long stopped pacing and, with his feet frozen stiff to the floor, he couldn't start again even if he wanted to. He didn't.

After he heard her take a deep breath, she was able to shakily continue her story, "And then I heard a huge, ear-shattering explosion and then...nothing. But he i-" Confused, he spent a second waiting for the technical analyst to start speaking again. When a minute ticked by without a peep from the other line, he slowly pulled the phone away from his ear. Displayed on the screen was the unmistakable lower power symbol as his phone shutdown.

He barely registers the feeling of his phone slowly slipping out of his stiff fingers, and he completely tunes out the crash his phone makes when hitting the floor. It didn't matter. A broken phone would the least of his worries at the moment. His legs soon give out from under him, and he drops unceremoniously to his knees, his hand still holding an invisible phone to his ear.

The tears that Spencer had previously been holding back started pouring from his eyes like a tap. Thick, ugly tears cascading down his face because Derek is dead. Derek is dead, and Spencer never got the chance to tell the other man about his feelings because, god, did Spencer love him. Spencer loved everything about him, his smile, eyes, personality. But now none of that matters because he's dead and Spencer never told him how he felt.

It's even worse because before all the bombs and explosions happened and everything was normal, at least for their line of work, Derek had brought him a cup of coffee. Spencer didn't ask for coffee, and he certainly didn't ask for one from his favorite coffee shop, of course, he wasn't complaining. He inwardly shrugged and brought the cup to his lips to taste it, fully prepared to make a comment to the older agent about the incorrect taste. But it was perfect, he literally couldn't have made a better cup himself.

When he questioned Derek on the unexpected gift all he had said was, "I noticed you were out and you have a headache, so I thought I would just get you a refill." This, of course, shocks Spencer, who had yet to tell anyone that he actually had a headache, although he usually didn't mention it. After a few seconds of wondering how he figured it out, he saw Derek roll his eyes and follow up his previous statement with, "I know you have a headache because you're doing the thing where you tilt your head away from noise and subconsciously shield your eyes from light. Don't forget that I'm a profiler too, pretty boy."

He's wearing his winning smile, the one that wrinkles his eyes a little in the corners and brights up his whole face, making his features appear younger and more full of life. At this point, Spencer is blushing like crazy, not only was the other man watching him close enough to know when he ran out of coffee, but he also knows his mannerisms when he has a headache that he didn't even know about.

The fact that he had used his nickname only made him flush a darker shade of red. The use of the nickname always made him react that way, he said that he hated it but he actually fucking loved the nickname. He would be all too happy to have that be the only thing that Derek called him for the rest of his life.

When his brain manages to process all that just happen, he actually has to bite his tongue to keep himself from blurting out a confession right then and there. He instead stutters out a quiet, "Thank you," before sipping on his coffee. The other nods and returns to work but Spencer closes his eyes and drinks the liquid. His thoughts were full of the darker skinned man across from him, his eyes, smile, body, his personality. He is the literal embodiment of perfect, he is perfection personified.

It is right then, as he is staring down into the swirling liquid, lightened by the obscene amount of sugar that he decides that he is going to tell him how he feels after work today. And not a second after he thinks that, JJ comes storming in announcing the case that Hotch had just informed her about. Dread fills his stomach, and he makes the decision to tell him after the case instead of at the end of the day.

Now he is dead. He didn't make it to the end of the case.

The saddest part was that Spencer wasn't even surprised. The world had made it clear over the course of his life, that it was hard set against him ever being happy. Whenever he had felt like he was finally found where he belonged, the world was there to snatch away that happiness and leave him alone again. This time was no different.

So now he is just a pile of useless skin and bones on the floor next to a dead phone, crying his eyes out silently. His body still frozen and his hand still cradling an invisible phone, his mind not focused enough to realize that there was no longer anything there. His thoughts much too preoccupied with more important news.

He doesn't notice or care about the people that are looking at him strangely, after all, he is in the middle of the lobby of a hospital. Generally, there aren't people crying their eyes out in the middle of the floor. Thankfully no one tries to come talk to him because he doesn't know what he would do if they did. Would they make him explain that his best friend and the person he loved was dead? The idea didn't even make sense to him! How could he explain it to a complete stranger when he couldn't actually get his mouth to form words that he didn't and couldn't comprehend.

He didn't know how much time he spent on the lobby floor, it could have been minutes, hours or days but it honestly didn't matter. What was the point of moving and talking when he would never get to see Derek's shining smile or hear his infectious laugh? There wasn't one. So until someone physically dragged him up from his current position, he isn't moving.

Fresh tears start trailing down his face as his shoulders shake with the force of his sobs. Over his tears, he can almost hear what might be his name, but he doesn't look over at the source of the sound. When he already knew it isn't who he wants it to be so why make an effort to lift his head. He hears it again a few seconds later, but the voice is closer, clearer this time and he unmistakably hears the words,

"Pretty boy?"

The only person that called him that is dead so who would be calling him that...unless. He slowly raises his head to see none other than Derek Morgan in the flesh.

His expression shows nothing but worry and concern for his friend, frozen on the floor sobbing. His eyebrows had drawn in, as his kissable lips pulled into a frown, but he is still perfect; not a single scratch or mark on him. He isn't dead. As soon as that thought manages to fully register in his big brain, he is on his feet and pretty much sprinting towards the other man with a quiet, "Oh thank god," tumbling from his lips.

He watches as confusion is added to the long list of emotions on Derek's face, but all he does is brace for the impact. Then Spencer literally jumps on the other man, wrapping his long skinny legs around the other man's waist and putting a firm hand of the back of his neck before pulling him into a kiss.

Usual Reid would have been freaked out when Derek didn't start kissing back right away, but this wasn't Usual Reid. Usual Reid didn't spend the last 10 minutes thinking that Derek was dead, only to just find out he was actually fine. So Spencer didn't give a damn what Usual Reid would do and just kept right on kissing the other man, pushing all of his fear, sadness, and anger into the desperate kiss. After a few moments passed, to his relief, he felt strong hands grab onto his thighs, helping to hold him up, as he started kissing back just as forcefully.

Then we are kissing like our lives depend on it. With a deep groan, Spencer roughly slips his tongue inside the other man's mouth making the kiss sloppy and needy. He inhales the scent of his shaving cream, his shampoo, and that extra scent that's just...him. Spencer needs to breathe him, lick him, eat him, and drink him but most of all, Spencer needs to feel him. He needs Derek pressed against every part of his being. It doesn't matter that his mouth is already on top of his, he needs him closer closer closer.

Every heated breath, bump of noses, and collision of teeth, reminds Spencer that he didn't die. That Derek is alive, breathing, and kissing Spencer. Derek is clasping onto Spencer's thighs tight enough to leave bruises, and Spencer is digging his nails into the darker skinned man's shoulder and neck. All the while chanting, Derek is alive, over and over again in his head.

After a few minutes of desperate and heated kissing, Spencer suddenly pulls away. But right as Derek is about to say something, Spencer slaps him hard across the face yelling, "Don't you ever fucking do that to me again!" He meant it to be intimidating, but his voice breaks halfway through, and tears are streaming down his face again. Bringing a hand up to wipe at the fresh tears, a softer, "I love you too much to have to go through that again," falls from his lips between sobs. He's crying so hard at this point that it's almost hard to understand what he said, but Derek heard the important parts.

The younger man is still clinging to him, burying his head in the other man's shoulder and wrapping his arms around his neck. He feels Derek slide a hand up his back, the touch soothing as he nuzzles his cheek against the brunet hair. The older man is repeating the words, "I'm sorry, I'll never do it again," like a mantra.

Eventually, Spencer manages to calm down and his sobbing in replaced by small hiccups. Derek nudges the younger man out of his shoulder and instead looks him deep in the eye. A small smile graces his lips when he whispers, "I love you too," before leaning forward for another kiss.

After the new couple stops kissing, it hits Spencer that Garcia is probably still crying her eyes out over Derek's "death." Derek, noticing that a worried frown had replaced the face shattering smile that had previously inhabited his face, feels worry pull at his eyebrows as he asks the younger man, "Hey baby, what was wrong?"

Not letting himself melt at the new nickname, Spencer answers, "You have to tell Penelope that you're okay. She was freaking out when she called me a little bit ago, she probably doesn't know that you're alive."

Confusion replaced the worry on the other man's face, Derek intertwines their hands and gently tells the other that, "I was on the phone with baby girl when it happened, she knows I'm okay. Why didn't she tell you that?" Spencer could tell the question was more to directed at himself rather than the boy genius, who was still reeling from the new information. Garcia had known? Then why hadn't she told him that?

Then it hits him.

"Oh my god, my phone died when we were talking. Dang it Garcia, she should really lead with the good news next time." The revelation kind of makes Spencer chuckle because of course, he had already established that the world hated him. But when he starts laughing, he can't stop, and he is suddenly laughing hard enough that his cheeks hurt and he is gasping for air. Eventually, Derek joins in, his laughter harmonizing beautifully with Spencer's like they were made to be heard together. Now the two men are uncontrollably laughing, still clinging to one another, after crying and making out. It was a weird day for this lobby.

The sound of someone clearing their throat interrupts their laughter, they glance over and see the rest of the team, confusion evident on all their faces. It's Rossi who speaks first, saying, "Why are you guys laughing in the middle of the lobby with Reid hanging off you like a monkey?" Bewilderment obvious in his tone.

This only causes the two agents to laugh even harder while Spencer slowly untangles his legs from around the others back and slowly drops back to the ground. "We're laughing at the universe's twisted idea of humor," Spencer looks back at the man, letting his golden brown eyes glimmer with love. He felt a shiver run down his spine when he saw the same glimmer in Derek's eyes, and a shy smile broke out on Spencer's face while a smirk fell on Derek's. Slowly, without thinking it through, Spencer shuffled into the older man's personal space and brushed a soft kiss against his lips.

He hears someone, maybe JJ, make a shocked noise, and suddenly Spencer remembers where they are, which is literally right in front of his team. His friends tried to keep a stern expression on their face for half a second before all of them broke into smiles. Emily sighs loudly, her head tilting back and hands pressed together as if she was praying, "Finally!"


End file.
